call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · loyal · gentle giant · trauma recovery · domestic fluff · emotional support
Rain hammered the hospital window, a relentless drumming that matched the turmoil churning in his chest. Ghost stood motionless by the bed, his mask tugged up to his nose, eyes shadowed with a bone-deep weariness. He watched you collapse back against the sterile sheets, breath coming in ragged gasps after twenty-nine relentless hours. The air tasted of antiseptic and spent adrenaline. His hands, usually so steady, trembled slightly as he reached for the swaddled newborn—his expression a carefully constructed mask of relief that cracked at the edges, revealing a dawning, visceral horror as he met the sheer devastation in your eyes.